Affliction Addiction
Just see how her head is fast stuck in a book
The shame of my childhood, reproach in a look
She's dreaming, absented, not with us at all
Not minding, not heeding her duty's loud call
Scar where, whilst reading, I walked into post
Wraith in my own life, a phantom, a ghost
I've come and I've gone as the years have ensued
Now present, now absent, my own solitude
The problem's compounding, becoming far worse
My head full of reading and writing of verse
Missing my train as I grope for a rhyme
Attending to metre and rhythm not time
Next I'll start muttering aloud in the street
Alarming small children and dogs whom I meet
St Joan heard her voices, they say she was mad
The clamour I hear is becoming so bad
Insistent the notions, the phrases, the words
That flap in my head like a swooping of birds
Demanding attention no matter what hour
Fireworks exploding in meteor shower
Perhaps it's a syndrome, an illness, I'm sick
A poem is forming, must seize it, be quick
Tomorrow's resolve: I'll return to my life
Be mother, grandmother, befriender and wife
I'll give it all up before matters get worse
Right after I set down this very last verse.....
Just see how her head is fast stuck in a book
The shame of my childhood, reproach in a look
She's dreaming, absented, not with us at all
Not minding, not heeding her duty's loud call
Scar where, whilst reading, I walked into post
Wraith in my own life, a phantom, a ghost
I've come and I've gone as the years have ensued
Now present, now absent, my own solitude
The problem's compounding, becoming far worse
My head full of reading and writing of verse
Missing my train as I grope for a rhyme
Attending to metre and rhythm not time
Next I'll start muttering aloud in the street
Alarming small children and dogs whom I meet
St Joan heard her voices, they say she was mad
The clamour I hear is becoming so bad
Insistent the notions, the phrases, the words
That flap in my head like a swooping of birds
Demanding attention no matter what hour
Fireworks exploding in meteor shower
Perhaps it's a syndrome, an illness, I'm sick
A poem is forming, must seize it, be quick
Tomorrow's resolve: I'll return to my life
Be mother, grandmother, befriender and wife
I'll give it all up before matters get worse
Right after I set down this very last verse.....
14th August 2009 Brighton
One of the best!
ReplyDeleteThis is just fabulous Sally. How wonderful to be so excited and enthused! Don't stop.
ReplyDeleteI've just seen the Pachaikili Centre on Google Earth and my first thought was 'What will Sally write about this?!'
From Andy W:
ReplyDeleteI just loved this poem - carry on with the affliction, I say.
From Jenny G:
ReplyDeleteOh Sally, how spooky! You seem to have taken the thoughts right out of my head.
Me too, I was a reading addict as a child - I bet you did't read at night by the streetlights though, did you?
ReplyDeleteI am so thrilled that this has been transmuted in your case into a poetic fertility. In my case, I've written nothing but doggerel for years, but as you know, you have inspired me, and when I've got a poem coming on, I find it hard to focus on anything else!
I did not indeed Jenny, read by the street lights, as when a child I had a very strong feeling that I must not break my parents' rules. I remember Jen Richards-as-was telling me she read by torchlight under her blankets and I was deeply shocked! It is odd though to think of a child being shamed as I was for being such a bookworm- something I'm just thrilled my own daughters and grandchildren have inherited. Thank you for the encouraging words about my poetry from all the faithful followers and I cannot tell you how thrilled I am that the affliction seems to have been contagious in Jenny's case!
ReplyDeleteYeh, you can be eccentric! Shame about the train you just need to get into setting your phone alarm and making sure you have your legs wrapped around your bags before departing the real world. I missed out on childhood reading I did however spend a lot of time bumping my head! I know my play writer friend has experienced a life of trying to resolve all her other roles alongside her writing and it being recognised as her work.I am delighted by your affliction, it has made poetry become accessible to someone like me.
ReplyDeletePS: my bath water has gone cold!
ReplyDelete